#it just annoys me to have my hair in my face more

[ceoofglytchell]

Spare Time

Summary: As King, Aegon Targaryen does not have much spare time anymore and those he has he mostly spends drinking with his friends in a tavern until… you come along. The most desired maiden in the realm they call you, Lord Tyland Lannister’s daughter, but your playfulness is just as grand as your beauty. Your father may not have time for amusements, but you most certainly do.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Word count: 5135 words

Warnings: mdni, Reader is Lord Tyland Lannister’s daughter, Reader is described of having Lannister like features, canon divergence (blood & cheese has not happened yet), yearning, aegon being a bit of an ass, kinda enemies to lovers, heavy drinking, drunken making out, smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, no mention of Y/N

Notes: This one has some more… spice in it, because I feel like aeg deserves it. As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language.

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"The Magnanimous... what does that even mean?"

Aegon flopped down on his throne, his legs draped over the armrest, a glass of red wine from the Arbor in his hand that was only half full. He slurred his words and his breath revealed that the king was quite drunk. His three friends, Eddard, Martyn and Leon, had made themselves comfortable at the foot of his throne and were also drinking. They usually did this in taverns or a brothel, but that evening the young king had decided to entertain them in the throne room of the Red Keep.

"You could always be 'Aegon the Strong'?" Martyn suggested with a laugh, slapping his thighs as if he had just made one of the funniest jests mankind had ever heard. But that was not the case.

"No, my nephew has already taken that one."

His friends laughed and he giggled with them, taking another long sip of his wine.

"By the gods, magnanimous means the same as generous. Please, read more."

And then of course there was you, the daughter of Tyland Lannister, the most sought-after maiden in the realm and a complete nuisance. You were annoying, rebellious, playful and you never seemed to be able to keep your mouth shut. A spoiled brat, that is what you were. It was all he could think of as he saw you leaning against one of the pillars in the throne room, your golden hair falling down your shoulders and a red dress adorning your feminine curves. You might be annoying, but you were just as beautiful.

"Fine, but I still don't want that title. I want a title that sows fear but also trust in the people,” he replied with a sigh and stood up from his throne again to walk back and forth on the steps, thinking about which name would meet those criteria while being careful not to cut himself on the sharp ends of the melted swords.

“Aegon the Dragonheart!” Leon said, whereupon you rolled your eyes and held your own bronze wine glass to your forehead, as the cold worked wonders for you at that moment, as you were sure that these men were giving you a headache.

“That’s better.”

Suddenly Martyn started to giggle and he pointed at his king with a wide grin on his face: “Aegon the Dragoncock!”

“Yes! The untamable beast!” Aegon laughed, spreading his arms triumphantly, as if that was indeed the best title he had heard that evening, when ‘magnanimous’ was far better, especially because the lords and ladies understood it. The common folk would not know what it meant directly, but it sounded good enough for history if he did not want to be remembered as ‘the usurper’. But certainly not as Dragoncock!

“Fine, that is enough for me. Good night, my lords, Aegon.”

You turned to leave the throne room and retreat to the comfort of your chambers instead, as you really missed your bed right now and a hot bath might do your aching head some good. However, you immediately heard cries of protest from the drunken men, who wanted you to stay and drink a little more with them. You did not think Martyn, Leon or Eddard wanted to sleep with you, but were just happy to have found another drinking companion, but you were not so sure about Aegon's intentions. Sometimes you thought you could see his eyes resting on your cleavage or your hips, but you could be imagining that. But it matched his reputation.

"It’s still 'my king' or 'your grace' for you, love."

That made you turn back around and fold your arms across your chest, looking at the silver-haired man with raised eyebrows. He, however, had a grin on his lips and seemed amused. Oh, sometimes he made you angry.

"Fine, Your Grace," you curtsied deeply, letting your hair fall over your shoulders but allowing Aegon to peek under the high neckline of your dress, which made a lump form in his throat. "I wish you a pleasant night."

Before the men could call you back, you hurried out of the throne room with a giggle, gathering your skirts in your hands while the heels of your shoes echoed across the cold stone floor of the Red Keep. You liked drinking with them and chatting about trivial topics, but the king... the king was a whole other topic entirely.

After you left, everything in the throne room was quiet for a moment and only the flickering of the torches that were attached to the walls or the breathing of the guards could be heard. No one moved, no one said a word.

"Do you think I have a chance if I try harder?" Martyn asked the group with a clearing of his throat, whereupon Leon hit him on the arm, knowing how their friend must feel about you.

"No chance, my friend. She's too pretty for you!"

The three drunken lords started laughing again, but Aegon just sat back down on his throne, a feeling of jealousy filling him for a reason he couldn't quite explain.

You were annoying and he certainly did not like you much, but he could not deny that he wanted you. And Aegon Targaryen usually got what he wanted, and if he didn't, he took it regardless.

"See that, Jaehaera? That is a lion. They are like cats, but much bigger and much stronger.” You pointed with your finger at the drawing in the book, which you held so that the little girl on your lap could look into it with you. She, however, seemed more interested in the butterflies fluttering over the rose bushes than the picture of the animal that adorned the banner of your house.

Not far from you and the little girl on the lawn of the garden, Helaena sat in the shade of a tree and embroidered, while in front of her Jaehaerys played with wooden horses and seemed to be having a lot of fun, which was quite a sweet sight.

As one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting, the twins had quickly grown on you, but the queen herself was still a mystery to you, as you could never interpret her knowing looks and confusing words. At one point she told you that lionesses should not dance with dragons. To this day, you still wondered what that meant, but lately she had been talking about rats more often anyway, and you certainly couldn't help her because you were disgusted by those.

"I want to play with daddy," the little princess murmured, to which you could only sigh because you were trying to entertain the little one, but you were not a nanny. You were just trying to make Helaena's day more pleasant by taking some of the work off her hands because you quickly noticed that she preferred peace and quiet and being alone above all else. You just wanted to help.

"Do you see the balcony up there?" you asked, pointing to a large balcony at the top of the Red Keep that would definitely give you a wonderful view of the city with all its beauty and flaws. "There is the council chamber. Your daddy is there right now, discussing important things.”

“Are you going to visit Morghul with me?”

You blinked in confusion and shook your head slightly, because visiting Morghul meant going down into the dragon pit and you certainly did not wish to do that. These large winged creatures had always been frightening, even when you lived on Casterly Rock and curiously leafed through illustrated history books yourself.

“No, I… I cannot. Lionesses like me should not dance with dragons,” you repeated the same words the queen once told you, whereupon Helaena looked up from her embroidery and looked at you for a moment with her eyebrows furrowed, as if she could not understand why you had said that.

“You sound like my mummy!” laughed Jaehaera before suddenly jumping off your lap and running to her brother to play with him.

With a sigh, you looked back at the book, which had actually been written for children, but it was the only thing you had at the moment and the sun was shining so beautifully on your skin and warming your body that you did not want to get up and look for something else to do. After a while of reading in silence, you noticed that the queen and her children had apparently gone back to the castle and you were now sitting alone in the shade of the branches of the weirwood tree and you could hear the gentle rustling of the leaves, which calmed you down.

For a moment everything seemed so peaceful, until he suddenly appeared in your field of vision and the calm was suddenly over.

"What a beautiful day, don't you think? Almost as beautiful as you."

With an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you leaned against the bark of the tree and closed the book, laying it next to you, while you now shifted your attention to him, since he could not be ignored.

"I did not know you were a poet, Aegon."

Aegon laughed and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of you, resting his chin on his hands, while the rays of sunlight falling through the thick red canopy of leaves cast soft shadows on his face. He wore black trousers, a loose blue shirt and a dark green embroidered coat, which he had left open, and of course the thick golden chain that always hung around his neck. Sometimes you wondered if he slept in it because you never saw him without it.

"Darling, I am anything but a poet. For you, however, I think I could make an exception." He replied with a witty twinkle in his amethyst eyes, which had always captivated you since you first met.

"Oh yes? I thought you were more of a drunkard and a male whore."

You may have expressed yourself a little too harshly, because the shine in his eyes suddenly disappeared and the king suddenly looked at you as if you had just murdered a puppy in front of him, when you were actually just trying to make a jest. The man sitting across from you was extremely sensitive, which you were not really aware of, since you had only come to King's Landing a few months ago and had been assigned to the queen as a lady-in-waiting. If you had been here earlier, you might have noticed the scratch marks and bruises on his cheeks whenever his mother or grandfather hit him.

But that gleam in his purple eyes disappeared as quickly as it had come, and a small smile pulled the corners of his mouth upwards again, hiding his pain under humor and lightness. "You wound me, darling."

"I do? Just a moment ago you seemed very proud of your attempt to lure me into your bed." A jest, that was all it was, but you did not expect that this jest would set something in motion that would probably change your life forever - in your eyes at least.

"Did I now?" Aegon, suddenly in a good mood and motivated again, played with a small flower that grew in abundance on the grass you were both sitting on, while he looked at you with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. "Would you like to be in my bed? I can assure you, it is comfortable and warm."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes exaggeratedly to make sure he saw that you had no interest in it, even if a small part of you was interested in seeing how much of his reputation was actually the truth and how much was just hearsay.

"Definitely not. I am not climbing into bed with someone who calls himself 'Dragoncock'."

He sighed, but quickly moved closer to you so you would not just get up and leave, which you usually did. Often times, it was only his friends and himself who were left, but you always left early, which he found extremely unfortunate. He had never seen you completely drunk or in a state of pleasure that he was only too happy to put you in.

"I was only kidding. I was drunk! I accept being called magnanimous too.”

“And you don’t even know what that means.”

Aegon let out a frustrated groan and fell backwards onto the grass, ruffling his silver hair even more and adding wrinkles and dirt to his clothes. Not that he cared. He was the king, he could run around as he pleased, but you had just brought him to the point of frustration again. Gods, you were difficult.

“What have I done to you to make you treat me like this?” he grumbled, looking up at the blue sky, which was devoid of any clouds, just a few birds flying wildly, frolicking in their natural habitat. Oh, to be as free as a bird.

"You are annoying me." Maybe it was not the wisest decision to talk to a king like that, but he had asked you and you had given him an honest answer, even if it was only a half-truth, because it was not him that was annoying you. What annoyed you was the way he made you feel. Whenever he was there, you felt strange because you were always hot and you always felt like you needed something that only he could give you.

"I'm annoying you?" The king propped himself up on his elbow and looked at you leaning against the hard, rough bark of the tree and staring at him. He could not believe it. The feeling was actually mutual.

"Sometimes I just want to spend my spare time in peace and quiet, and then you suddenly appear."

Strange. Aegon had never thought about it like that before. When you were not with his sisters and children, he would see you sitting alone in some place most of the time, doing the gods knows what, and in his eyes you looked lonely. He did not want you to be alone or feel bad, which is why he usually brought you along to his drinking companions so you could all drink together and be happy. He never thought that that was what was annoying you.

Besides, a beauty like you should not be sitting around alone somewhere, where anyone could come and snatch you away. You were a member of his court and therefore you were under his protection and he did not want a single hair on your pretty head to be hurt.

"My apologies. I... have not thought of it that way before."

You blinked in surprise and just looked at him for a moment without saying a word. Had you heard correctly? Had Aegon Targaryen actually just apologized to you when he did not need to, since you actually secretly enjoyed his company most of the time. So he was capable of being something other than a fool after all. Maybe your father was right when he told you that somewhere beneath the facade a decent man was hidden. Perhaps you could get through to him if you tried.

"Then I will just ask you, instead of always surprising you. We wanted to go out into the city tonight, after I am done with my duties, to have some fun. Would you do us the honor of accompanying us, dear Lady Lannister?"

Aegon grinned at you, and you should know that that grin did not mean anything good, but the way he asked the question, as if he wanted to take you to a feast instead of a regular tavern, made you nod. Hopefully you would not regret that decision at the end of the evening.

"Good. I will come with you. But you have to promise me that you will bring me back to the Red Keep safely afterwards."

"I promise."

The sun had just disappeared behind Visenya's hill and bathed the sky in a graceful golden glow, and you stood in front of Aegon's chambers, waiting for him to open the door for you so that you could sneak out of the castle together. Your gentle features and the golden curls that marked you as a member of House Lannister were hidden under a black cloak and you wore the simplest dress you owned, which was still more ornate and beautiful than anything the women of the small folk owned. After all, your father only wanted the best for you, his only daughter.

You heard no loud voices telling you that his friends were nearby, nor did you hear anything else from inside his chambers. Perhaps he was still trapped in a council meeting? Or maybe they had simply left without you? Yes, that had to be the answer. They probably did not want a woman with them when they went to the Street of Silk or-

Suddenly the wooden doors to his chambers opened and tore you out of your thoughts. The king stood before you, his hair disheveled and wearing only a loose shirt and trousers. He did not look like he wanted to leave the Keep this evening anymore. He did not even look like he wanted to go and drown himself in wine and other desires, which was extremely uncharacteristic of him.

He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you into his rooms and closed the door behind you. His chambers were dark and only lit by a few candles and the soft light that still fell through the balcony, and a fire flickered in his fireplace. The atmosphere seemed somehow... romantic. What was happening here?

"Where are the others? Did we not want to go into town?" you asked him, confused, and you pulled your hood off your head so that he could look at you properly. The flickering lights made it seem as if shadows were performing a dance on your pale skin, which he could not take his eyes off for a second. In this light you looked even more beautiful, he thought.

"There was a change of plans, little lioness." Aegon replied and sat down on his sofa, which he had personally dusted off any dirt before you came, because he had a plan. He had always wanted you and tonight he would have you.

You started to nervously play with the rings on your hands, which was a habit you had picked up from your mother when she was still alive. You did not know what he was up to or what plan he was talking about, but somehow you were also intrigued.

"How about we both spend time together here? I have more than enough wine and I can prove to you that I am not that annoying after all."

Oh, so that was what he was after. He thought you had the wrong idea about him and now he wanted to prove you wrong. Maybe you should do the same, because it seemed like he also saw you differently than you really were. This evening could help you both get closer and maybe, just maybe, he would get what he wanted. You would give it to him, but only if he did it right.

"I am not as bad as you think either, Your Grace," you said with a small smile playing around the corners of your mouth before you sat down next to him on the sofa, but at a reasonable distance, which would most likely decrease, knowing him.

"You will have to prove that to me," he said playfully and turned to the small side table that was next to the seat, and he poured you both a glass of sweet wine from the Arbor, which counted as his favorite wine along with the stuff they drank in the south in Dorne. Dornish wine did not taste nearly as good as this, but it served its purpose better than any other.

"I shall do my best." You took the golden cup of wine that he handed you and the smell of alcohol immediately filled your nose. It was only when you came to King's Landing that you started drinking so much that the smell alone relaxed you and he was probably largely to blame for this development. But you could not bring yourself to blame him.

"Oh yeah? Then start. Convince me."

You hesitated for a moment, taking a sip from the wine glass, because you did not know how to even begin to convince him that you were not a spoiled, annoying brat, but just a woman like any other, even though he probably would not see it that way.

"I... I honestly don't know how," you admitted, your cheeks turning a little pink.

"Fine, then I will start. I wanted you all to myself and that is why I stayed here with you. Martyn and Leon went into town alone.”

This was something you definitely did not see coming. You had first assumed that he just did not feel like leaving the castle at this late hour and that he preferred the comfort of his chambers, but the fact that this was the reason he did not want to share your company with his friends surprised you. He had actually done you a favor by doing this, because you knew that at some point they would have turned onto the Street of Silk and then things could have turned out badly for you if some drunk man had taken a liking to your appearance. You could only have hoped that he would have protected you, but perhaps this was his way of doing that.

“When I was younger I had a cat and my uncle made me believe it was a lion cub for months,” you told him with a giggle, because it was true. Your uncle, your father's twin brother, could be a real jerk sometimes, and ever since you found out that your beloved lion was actually a simple cat, you never spoke to him again. In fact, you even avoided him at all feasts as punishment, which was very amusing to think about sometimes.

"I sometimes slept next to Sunfyre in the Dragonpit."

"I hate all sweets except lemon tarts."

"I once went swimming drunk in Blackwater Bay at night."

For what felt like hours you shared stories like this, drinking and drinking and drinking. At some point you had started drinking from the same cup, and his head was resting on your lap while you ran your fingers through his hair. Neither he nor you knew how you got there, although the next morning you could perfectly remember what happened immediately afterward.

"You know, I thought you were the most annoying woman I have ever met!" Aegon slurred drunkenly, his hand squeezing the side of your waist, his mind filled with the thought of how good it felt to have his head resting against your soft thighs and how wonderful the way was how you ran your thin fingers through his silver hair as if you were gently brushing it. He wanted more. He wanted you more than ever, even though he had several cups of wine inside him and could barely concentrate on anything other than the thought of pushing you onto your back and taking what he wanted. He could do it, but he managed to control himself - for now.

"And I thought you were just trying to bed me!" you laughed, although there was some truth in that statement, since you really did believe that was the only reason he was always around you.

"I do. I want to bed you and I will do it if you let me.”

Your fingers stopped sliding through his curls and your breathing became faster. You were slightly in denial, because you had not expected him to admit it so easily. He wanted you. He wanted to lie with you, claim your maidenhead and ruin you for all other men, and by the gods, you could feel yourself suddenly getting hot and instinctively clenching your thighs together at the thought.

When Aegon felt you rub your legs together for a moment, he felt his self-control slowly slipping away. He was arousing you. Knowing the effect he was having on you made him feel triumphant, because he finally had you where he wanted you. You were so close... and all he had to do was grab you.

"Do you want this? Do you want me to take you, to show you who I really am?"

A shiver ran down your spine, especially at the way he looked up at you, but you also knew that it would be the worst decision to let him take you now, because you were still unmarried and a war was brewing on the horizon. Your hand might still be needed. But that did not mean that you could not have some fun.

"I am still a maiden, Aegon."

He immediately opened his mouth to make a crude remark or say some other clever thing, but you quickly put your index finger on his lips so that he would be quiet for once.

"But that does not mean I do not want you."

Before you could say anything else, you suddenly felt his strong hands grab your hips and suddenly you were lying on the sofa beneath him and he was hovering over you, looking down at your heavily breathing, drunken form with a wide grin.

"Gods, you are divine," he simply murmured before he lowered himself onto you and began attacking your throat and neck with kisses, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his body pressing against yours.

"Fuck, I can't wait... I want you..."

"Oh, Aegon..." you whispered breathlessly as he found a certain spot on the side of your neck and immediately began sucking and nibbling at it. It would surely leave red marks on your flawless skin, but you certainly would not complain.

"Need to taste you...need to be inside you..."

Without another second's hesitation, he pulled your dress up until the red fabric reached your hips and your pretty legs and the long stockings you wore came into view. He would only have to pull your skirt up a little further and he would see the object of his desire, the thing he had been dreaming of for weeks.

"Please, Your Grace...touch me..." you begged as your fingers dug into his shoulder-length silver strands and tugged lightly, causing a low growl to escape him.

He did not know if it was your pleading, your fingers in his hair, or simply the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as small whimpers escaped you at what he was doing, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back. In his eyes, you were breathtaking. Better than any whore he had ever fucked.

"You are begging? Already?"

His hand traveled the length of your leg until he reached your soft thigh and he began to trace small, slow circles on the flesh that would probably drive you to the brink of insanity. That was exactly what he wanted, though. He wanted you to go insane over him. He needed it.

"Aegon, please... I need you..."

"As you wish, my lady."

Aegon pulled your skirt up further and then, in the darkness of his candlelit chambers, he was able to catch a glimpse of your exposed, wet cunt. The realization that you had been wearing no smallclothes the entire time made him even harder than he already was. The effect you had on him was dangerous.

He quickly switched positions again so that he was on his back and you were resting on his hips, making you bite your lip hard as you could feel his hardness pressing against you. You would give anything to feel him inside you, but you also knew that would be too hasty, even if you were both drunk. Maybe you would allow him to feel you another time, if he behaved well.

He pulled you further up, away from his hips and towards his shoulders, making you eye him with furrowed brows, not knowing what he was about to do. You had always assumed that men could only feel satisfaction from their cocks.

"Come on, I want to taste you," he said impatiently, pulling you even closer to his face, your womanhood almost touching his chin.

"You... you want me to...?"

"Gods, woman." He pushed you against him with force, a surprised squeal escaping you as he buried his handsome face in your cunt and without hesitation he began to lick you and push his tongue into your hole while his hands held your thighs tightly so that you would no try to escape him. You moaned loudly and your hands immediately buried themselves in his hair, but in your state you did not know if you wanted to push him away from you and pull him closer to you - or both.

While he feasted on your sweet nectar, you brought one of your delicate hands behind your back and leaned back ever so slightly so that you could place your hand on the obvious bulge in his breeches and slowly stroke him up and down.

Aegon cursed under his breath and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt your hand caressing him, something he had dreamed of for weeks and something he had always imagined when he had touched himself at night with the image of you in his mind. The little lioness had her claws out and he was going to enjoy every second of it, even though he knew it would not take him long.

His nose nudged your clit over and over a few times while his tongue stimulated your wet hole, eventually causing you to cum undone with a cry of his name and your grip on his cock loosening, so he quickly got you back under him and he began to move his hips fast and hard against your own, chasing his own relief.

You just laid there breathing heavily as you wrapped your arms around him to hold him while he took what he needed from you. It only took a few more thrusts before he groaned lowly into the crook of your neck and tainted the inside of his breeches with his spent.

You both lay there breathing heavily, he still with his face in the crook of your neck and you stroking his back with your gentle hands as if he needed rest now.

"We will repeat this."

And that you did.

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[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, azriel sucks :p and unedited

word count: 1.4k

eventual Eris x OC

“Rhys! You will never believe what I managed to do with my-” I bursted into the kitchen with a warm glow, my green dress flowing around me and headed towards where he was sitting with a cup of tea.

“Wynn, I have been up with Nyx for the past three nights and days with him teething. I would love some silence. Please.” He said with a low voice and eyes closed in annoyance. 

“Oh! Right, yes. Sorry.” I wince, I twirl my finger and use the wind to brush through the mellow sounding wind chimes I have placed around the River House. 

The tension seemed to leave his body, and I placed a sisterly kiss on the top of his head, my ginger bobbed hair layering over his black hair. In doing so I managed to remove the growing headache from him and take it on for myself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Wynn.” He said softly.

“I know, but that’s what family is for Rhys.” I respond with a light touch on his shoulder and whisper words of encouragement as I leave. 

As I walked out of the River House where the sun is setting, I ran into Azriel and Cassian. I smile and my subtle pink glow brightens.

“Hello you two!” I say with a wave and notice the grimm look on their body language and my face falls and my glow dims. “What happened, who's hurt?” 

Cassian winces and Azriel gives me a sharp look, “Stay out of it Wynn. You do enough damage as is.” 

I flinch back and the wind around me goes cold, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He walks closer to me and leans over to get in my face, “It means that whatever magical experiment you tried this time back fired and hurt Elain.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper back. My mind reels trying to remember if I left a magic trial unattended in the open, but I draw a blank. Unless… 

“She snuck into my cottage?” I question brows furrowing. There was only one trial I left at my house and that was my attempt of getting my wind to play instruments on its own, but wind is finicky and if interrupted incorrectly can cause a spiral of sharp and messy wind.

“Snuck? Wynn, you let everyone into your home all the time, there was no reason to lock your doors.” Cassian responded. I go hot with anger. 

“So just because I host all the time means my house is fair game? There are wards around it for a reason when I am not home. If that is your logic here then allow me to go into your guys home whenever I feel and do what I please.” I snap back.

“You’re being unreasonable Wynn.” Azriel says while rolling his eyes. “It was just Elain. She is harmless.” 

“I do not care who it was Azriel, it is my home. What did she need from me anyway? I just saw her this morning.” I ask him and he storms by me to go inside the house. Cassian and I follow him.

“Rhysand!” Azriel yells. Rhys walks out of the kitchen looking a little better than he did before. 

“Why are we yelling?” He asks.

“Wynn has caused more damage to this court.” Azriel says and I wince back. Rhys turns to look at me with an eyebrow raised. 

I raise my hands in defense.

“Wynn, was it another silly experiment?” Rhys asks. My heart tugs and I nod, and I feel as though I should defend myself. They’re not silly, they are fun.

“Did I do something to personally offend you Azriel?” I ask softly. 

“Yes! Since you’ve shown up to this court all you have done have been attached to the hip with Feyre, surprised she hasn’t told you that you are suffocating. You’re nothing more than an annoying weed.” He spat, “You buzz in and out loudly all the time, you cannot read a room to save your life, your experiments are juvenile and lack actual use, and whenever you shrink down to your pixie form is the only time you're tolerable because we can barely hear you.” He said like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

I can only stare at him, shock and hurt cover my face. The glow of pink on my body fades down to a low humming blue, and suddenly I am back in that damn jar. 

The jar I am in is hot and stuffy. I do not remember how I got here but I do understand that this is cursed glass and I won’t be able to be let out unless the lid is opened by the one who placed the curse or is killed. 

The jar sits in the middle of a long dinner table as decor, with being alive I always have a glow to me. When I am neutral and healthy it's normally pinkish orange, right now it’s bluish purple relating to my mood and terror. It hasn’t changed in the past decade of being here.

Being small and trapped in a jar and treated as entertainment by those who are desperate to feel power again is something I would never wish upon anybody. They like to cover the oxygen holes on the top and force me to dance or create wind art. Which is borderline impossible with the lack of airflow in here anyway.

“Tell me pretty, what other colors can you turn?”

“Az-” Cassian whispered.

“Fuck you Azriel. You know why I don’t go into that size very often and you of all people should understand why.” I spit at him, and he for just a moment looks guilty. 

“What? You all say this behind her back anyway. Now that I tell her to her face it’s a problem?” He looks at his two brothers. And they both won’t look me in the eye.

“Is that true?” I choke out with silent tears running down my face. Rhys looks at me and takes a breath, “There could have been more tact to how we said this but to put it bluntly yes.”

My wispy iridescent wings pop out of my back. And I start walking backwards towards the door, “I will see myself out then.” 

“Wynn, wait please let's discuss this more maturely.” Rhys says. Azriel scoffs in the background. 

“If it wasn’t for her, Elain wouldn’t be hurt again.” I flinch again feeling sick to my stomach. 

“I am sorry.” I choke out. Cassian reaches for me and I step back curling into myself feeling betrayed by those I called family. 

“No, that was completely uncalled for.” A new voice responds. I turn around to say Nesta and Elain. I look over Elain and all I notice is a few wind burns on her arms. She gives me a soft smile and I look down with a frown.

“Azriel, what is the actual problem here? Because I am fine. I went into her cottage because I forgot my tea recipe book there and completely forgot she was running an experiment.” Elain comes up to me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I lean into her warmth. Nesta stares at him with a cold hard glare. 

“He’s jealous.” She observes. Azriel looks shocked for just a moment before he stalks closer into Nesta’s face. To which signals me and Elain to step back and Cassian to intervene. 

“Enough.” Rhys says rubbing his temples again. “Azriel you were out of line with the way you approached this situation and Wynn maybe just be a little less, you.” 

All three girls flinch with the wording. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind Rhysand?” Nesta barks. “Wait until I tell Feyre.” 

By the time the two of them are arguing I shrink down to my pixie size and fly home to my cottage. I arrive at the front stoop back to normal size, and burst into tears against my front door barely making it inside before I collapse into a pile on the floor. 

In a panic I start shoving some of my emergency belongings in a satchel; clothes, my hygiene products, and my magic trials notebook. 

Frantically rushing around my small cottage I see a teacup Elain painted for me, with little orange and pink flowers all over it. I wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my satchel.

By now the sun has completely set, and I take off my porch, my holographic wings sparkling in the moonlight and head towards some place I know will bring me some comfort. 

The Autumn Court. 

a/n: please enjoy! I have been thinking about this idea for a while! Leave comments, like, and share. if you have any questions plz let me know!

I do not own any of the characters that Sarah J Mass has created. but I do own miss Wynnie Lara :p

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[rs-hawk]

Beauty and the Beast but the Beast doesn't return to full human when the curse is broken, because it was almost too late to break it when it happens

So instead of seemlessly regaining the throne and getting married with Beauty, the people of the town are still uneasy, even though they remember him now, and don't understand why Beauty stays by his side when they're free to return to the village

Likewise some of the humans-turned-objects-turned-humans still have characteristics of their former objects, like the candlestick's hair will sometimes catch fire when they're upset (harmless to them but still scary), or the alarm clock will get ringing migraines in a more literal way

I just think it could be a really neat story, fluff or smut or whathaveyou

I know that this is an o bylder ask but I have been thinking about it for awhile. I might do another part if y'all like it but I had a hard time narrowing it down to which characters to focus on.

Belle was surprised when Beast, Adam?, didn't return to fully human. Though to say that she was displeased wouldn't be true either. Her smile was always warm and genuine when she looked at him. He would smile back at her with his teeth that were a little too long, set on a face that almost, if you squinted, still looked like he was a beast. His horns had nearly disappeared, but when Belle would run her fingers through his thick, luscious hair, she could still feel just a prick of them.

Of course the town people remembered him, though they struggled with the fact that they too had been cursed. How could they have possibly been cursed for so long and no one had been the wiser? Belle tried to get more people to come to the palace to meet him, to participate in his welcome back ball, but very few came back.

"Maybe you should go home," one day Adam sighed, putting his head in her lap.

"I am home," Belle insisted, once again running her fingers through his hair.

"You know that's not what I meant. The townspeople... they are afraid of me. Your father still is cross with me, and how could I blame him? I kidnapped him and then you. I'm sorry," he muttered, nuzzling her leg and grabbing her thighs with his paw like hands, his long nails lightly scrapping her delicate skin there.

"Wherever you are is home to me," she purred, kissing the top of his head.

In the next room, Cogsworth was getting annoyed with Lumiere for once again flirting with the maids. It always caused such a mess. The large man grabbed Lumiere by the tie, tugging him closer to him.

"If you don't stop with this nonsense at once, I'm going to have to insist to the Master that you have a leave of absence, and where would you go if not here?" Cogsworth hisses, his mustache twitching as if they were hands on a clock ticking.

"Oh Cogsworth, my dear friend, are you jealous, mm? Do you miss us being, how would you say, stored together?" Lumiere smirked, looking up at the little man with a twinkle in his eyes.

Cogsworth blushed, letting go of the former candle. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Mm, don't be so quick to sweep, my dear friend. We could be stored together tonight if you like," he continued to smirk, the start of a flame sparking off the tip of a lock of hair, dying as the ember wafered between them.

Like this story? Support me on Ko-fi ☕❤️

[stephsageek]

A preview of the Five x Lila one-shot I'm working on:

“Seriously?” she demanded.

“’Seriously’ what?” he deadpanned.

“Well, it’s Friday-bloody-night!”

“And?”

“Oi! What do you mean ‘and?’ You know damn well, I only get one night a month! One night where I make up an excuse to hang out, get out of the house, and let down my hair! And here you are, washing bloody dishes! Is that honestly all we’re going to be doing tonight?! I might as well be sitting in front of the telly watching the last of Diego’s brain cells die off while he watches Naked and Afraid!”

“What? You got a hot date with somebody else?” he quipped, tossing the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and opening a cabinet to his right. “Believe it or not, Lila, but I am not here on this planet to entertain you. You're the one who invites herself over just as an excuse to get out of the house--that has nothing to do with how I plan on spending my evening. A night of actual drinking and reading is plenty for me. I’m not the one living in a ‘domestic hellscape.’”

“Why do you have to be such an old man all the time?!” she whined.

“Maybe because I am an old man, crazy lady,” he replied, sounding unbothered, as he began to put dishes back into cabinets. Even with his back turned, Lila could hear the smile in his words. He thought this was funny!

“Believe me, I am more than aware,” she huffed.

“Don’t like it, toots, go darken somebody else’s doorstep for ‘book club,’ or whatever the hell other B.S. you feed that half-wit brother of mine,” Five snarked as he finished his chore.

He finally turned to face her, resting one hip against the counter. Lila noted he must have had a long day that day judging by the stubble along his jaw. And yet, despite his protests to the contrary, he didn't kick her out. If he didn't want her around bothering him, why give her his spare key? She watched him smile, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly in amusement. It was still strange seeing the signs of his advancing age. She’d gotten so used to him being so young that Lila found herself disconcerted to realize he was nearing physically twenty years old soon.

“C’mon, old man! Give a girl a break! I’m trapped in a bad episode of The Brady Brunch and Mr. Brady is a whiney sod!”

Five didn’t react other than to chuckle. He casually went over to another cabinet and retrieved a bottle of wine. He turned back to Lila and tipped the bottle, silently offering. She jutted her lip stubbornly. His smile widened. He turned back, returning with a bottle of scotch. He lifted his eyebrows invitingly.

Lila grinned and nodded.

Five nodded back, retrieved a pair of glasses, and went to get ice from the fridge while Lila continued with her diatribe. “I am trapped in a loveless marriage; I’m surrounded by needy people day in and day out! It’s nothing but an endless stream of carting around children, appeasing grumpy forgetful old people—no offense—”

“—None taken—”

“—trying to tune out gossipy aunties, and stroking an inept man-child’s ego! Five, I want to do something fun for a change! Something exciting! And my best and frankly only mate is a boring ass sexagenarian! Do you have any idea how sad that is?! That you of all people are the only one I look forward to seeing anymore! I love my kids and folks, sure; but it's not the same! You seriously don't have anything planned?”

Five shrugged looking non-plussed. Lila shook her head, dismayed.

“You’d think working as a time-traveling assassin and then as a government agent, you’d have developed a personality besides being annoying and uptight!”

Lila threw herself onto the table, her arms outstretched and her forehead landing on the hard surface with a knock.

She heard Five sit down across from her, patiently waiting. He sat her drink within her reach.

“Alright. I’ll bite; what did you have in mind?”

Lila turned her head slightly, peeking an eye out from between the heavy fringe of her bangs. “You’ll let me pick?”

Five sighed but smiled indulgently. “I suppose if I’m your only friend, than that means you’re my only friend too; I suppose I can be generous to somebody so pathetic as to call me of all people their friend.”

Lila sat up so quickly that Five flinched, drawing back ever so slightly in surprise.

She reached into her pocket and slapped a deck of cards on the table between them.

Five lifted an amused eyebrow. “Cards? And you call me old—”

“Not just cards, my dear man—poker!”

“Poker’s hardly what I’d call—”

“Oh! But I didn’t finish!” Lila wagged her finger, opening the cards and spreading them out on the table.

Five glanced down and reached across the space to pick out one of the jokers Lila had been searching for, removing it from the others and setting it aside.

“Oh? What’ll it be? Five-card draw?” He grinned ironically as Lila swatted at his fingers so she could dig out the other joker and set aside the ‘rules’ card. He continued. “Texas hold ‘em? Omaha?” Five took a long draw of his drink.

“Strip poker!”

Pfff!

Five expelled his drink, coughing into his fist after.

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon x Reader // Pt. 3

Summary: You go on your second date with Aegon and it ends up being much more fun that you anticipated.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The next few days were filled with cute texts and fluffy dates. Aegon respected your wishes and didn't push you to go any further than a make out session. It drove you crazy; you wanted him but you were scared. As much as you wanted to forget all the pain Jason caused you, it was something that stayed. It tainted your views of love, something that can be hard to make new. 

Aegon seemed too good to be true.

But you swallowed your fears and pushed on with your relationship with him. 

“Hey, man!” Cregan strolled into the room. “How's our bet going? Is she begging for you yet?” He plopped himself down next to Aegon and put his feet on the table.

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmured. “No, she's not begging yet, but I'll get there.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Gods, I almost feel bad.”

Cregan’s eyebrow rose. “Bad? Don't tell me that my best friend is actually catching feelings for someone.”

“No, I'm not catching feelings for anyone.” Aegon got up to grab another beer; his third one already, and it was barely noon.

“The way you talk about her says differently.”

“I haven't talked about her.”

“Not obviously, of course. At any mention of the bet or anything, you tense up. Something’s going on in that head.”

“Whatever, Cregan,” Aegon muttered. “Since you're so focused on annoying me, I'm gonna go to my room.” He gave his friend a mocking wave before leaving the living room to his own.

He put his head in his hands and let out a groan. He couldn't be catching feelings, he shouldn't be falling for her. But he is. 

The way she smiles. The way her eyes light up. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. It's like looking into a bright light and being engulfed in its warmth. 

But he had to do this. He needed to prove that he could have anyone he wanted. If not to himself, then to his friend. As shallow as it was, he wanted to follow through. He hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end. 

“Hel, I really can't believe it,” you gushed. “I know you said not to get too involved with him but he's already so much better than Jason!” 

You plopped down on the couch, closed your eyes, and stretched. The wonderful feeling of being loved say well inside your heart. Despite the aching fears and the anxiety that comes along after being cheated on, the feeling of being loved triumphed ever just a tiny bit. 

“I wouldn't go ahead and say that, bestie. Please, be on your guard. You know all the stories, all the rumors, and I can even testify for some of them.” Helaena held your hands and looked you in the eye. “Be careful, please.”

A voice came from the hallway. “Yeah, what she said.” Jace walked over to the two of you sitting on the couch. He wore a grim expression on his face. “I don't mean to hurt you but I've heard that he's just trying to get you to sleep with him, all for some bet.”

Your heart sank at the thought but you pushed it aside.

“Very funny, Jace,” you said. “But I don't need that negativity in my life.”

“It's not negativity if it's true.” He looked at you with pity in his eyes. 

You shook off the expression and took a deep breath. “Why can't you two just be happy for me?” 

Helaena squeezed the hand she was holding. “We're happy for you, we just want you to be careful. We hate to see you hurt.”

“It's a risk, isn't it? All relationships are. I know Aegon and I will either end up together forever or eventually break up. It's up to us, not you two, but me and Aegon, how bad that ending will be.”

Helaena huffed. “Okay, I'll drop it. For now.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you.” You turned to address both Jace and Helaena. “Now, would you two like to know what's happening next?”

“As hesitant as I am, yes,” Helaena said. 

Jace nodded his head in agreement.

You pulled out your phone to read the text messages between you and Aegon.

“Our next date is a movie!” You announced.

There was a beat of silence before Jace broke it. “A movie? Isn't that a little cliche?”

You frowned at him. “Shut up, it's something.”

“What movie are you guys gonna catch?” Helaena cut in. 

“Oh! Um…” you bowed your head in embarrassment and mumbled your answer.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” Jace leaned in. A knowing smirk graced his lips.

You mumbled your answer again, but a little louder.

“Bestie, I still can't hear you!” 

“Shrek 2.” 

You look up in shame. The judgment you feel from them was too much.

“...I'm sorry, did you just say Shrek 2?” Clarified Jace.

“It's the best one!”

Helena laughed. “Considering it's you and Aegon, it makes sense. Weird choice, but yeah.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, time to get you date ready!”

“‘Date ready?’ Hel, I’ve got five hours until I have to leave. I have time.”

“For what I have planned for you? Nope, five hours is just enough time for me and Jace to get you set.”

Jace froze hearing his name. “Me? What do I have to do?”

“Shut up, you're moral support,” Helaena rolled her eyes in amusement. “Now, let's go.”

Helaena offered you her hand but you hesitated slightly. What if this is just a plot to convince you to not go? But when you looked at your friends all you could see was the love they had for you.

“Alright, let's get this started,” you smiled.

Four hours later had you sitting in a chair with your back straight and a mirror behind you. 

“Annnnnd done!” Helaena turned your chair around so you could see yourself.

You took in the image, your hair all done nicely, your facial features enhanced, all of it. You couldn't help the smile that made its way.

“Helaena,” you started, “my gods, you did an amazing job!” 

You turned toward Jace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah,” he said between handfuls of chips, “you look great. Aegon is gonna shit himself.” 

“I don't know about that,” you rolled your eyes. “He's been with a shit ton of other girls before me, I doubt I'm the prettiest.”

A hand smacked your head. 

“No. You're the hottest he's ever been with and will only be with for the rest of your lives.”

“Wow, and I thought you were dead set on me not being with him.”

“Only to protect you! But,” she sighed, “if this is how it goes then he better not break your heart. He does that. I'll chop up his dick in his sleep.”

“Yeah, and I'll fuck up his face,” Jace added.

You laughed at your friends, your heart full. “You two are so extra.”

“It's called being best friends,” Jace said as he joined you and Helaena at the mirror. 

Looking at the three of you, you thought of all the trials you've been through. All the heartbreak, the laughs, the highs and the lows. Without them who knows what you would be like. You interlocked your hands with both of them and leaned back.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you guys, but I'm grateful for you two and love you.”

Beep beep!

The sound of the honking car was quickly followed by a text. You picked up your phone and couldn't stop the smile. Of course Aegon would do this. As you readied yourself to leave the apartment, you did one last look in the mirror. 

You were happy with how you looked; all dolled up for the date. Just enough to be enticing but not so much in your face. With a pep in your step, you made your way to the front door. 

Aegon’s eyes went wide when he saw you. “You look…”

You nodded for him to continue.

“Amazing. You look amazing.” Aegon flashed you a big smile.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” you replied as you got in the car.

Aegon’s car was messy but it could be a lot worse. Luckily the trash wasn't food trash but rather random papers and receipts that were strewn across the floor and the back seat. It also smelled vaguely of weed.

“You smoke?” You asked him.

Aegon pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah, and I vape every now and then if I want a flavor or something. You?” 

“I've been curious about it but no, I haven't done either.”

“Wanna try? We can pull over and I can roll you a joint.”

A smile crept onto your face. There were butterflies in your stomach but you were excited to take the plunge.

Once Aegon pulled over into an unmarked parking lot, he pulled out the weed, the paper, and lighter. He was careful to roll the joint nicely for you. Once he finished he looked at his work and gave you a smile. “Ta-da! One joint rolled for my kitten.”

“Okay, cool. I can do this.” You told yourself.

Aegon looked at you with concern. “You don't have to smoke if you don't want to.”

“No, but I really want to.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “I'll light it. Then all you have to do is inhale through your mouth, hold it for a bit then exhale through your mouth. Simple.”

“Simple. Right.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Aegon lit it then brought the joint up to your mouth. You gently wrapped your lips around the tip and you did as he said. 

Inhale.

You felt the smoke fill your mouth.

Hold.

You let it sit and go down your throat.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke flew out of your mouth.

As a calming sensation sprinkled through your body you have Aegon a relaxed smile.

“You feeling okay?” Aegon asked you 

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Aegon took a drag from the joint himself. “Wanna get high before we watch the movie?”

“Hell yeah.”

Before heading off to the movie theater, you and Aegon shared the joint. It didn't take long for you to get high but Aegon finished it off. He was careful not to get higher than just having a buzz since he was driving. The rest of the ride was filled with you babbling about everything and nothing. Aegon smiled and let you go on. 

Arriving at the theater, you let out a little giggle. “I'm so excited for this, Aegon.” You slurred his name.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stop himself from smiling at you. Getting out of the car, he circled around to open the passenger door. “Time to get out, kitten.”

You giggled again. “I like that you call me kitten. It's cute and it kinda turns me on.”

Aegon gulped down a breath. “That's great; time to see the movie.”

Letting go of Aegon’s hand, you put both of yours on his chest. “I wanna be with you.”

He pushed your hands down and kept them firmly in his. Aegon looked you in the eye. “And we will but not like this. I want you to be sober when I take you.”

You huffed. “Okay.”

Finally getting you to step out of the car, Aegon went back to only holding one hand as he led you through the parking lot and into the theater.

“Mmm I want popcorn and an Icee,” you said as soon as you walked in. The smell of popcorn immediately surrounded you.

“I'll get you popcorn and a water,” Aegon said.

You stamped your foot. “But I want an Icee!”

He tugged on your hand to get you to look at him. “Kitten, you need water. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Another giggle escaped you.

After buying popcorn and water, Aegon led the way to your numbered theater to watch Shrek 2. At first you wanted to sit up front but he pulled you away to the rows in the back.

“No one needs to know you're high,” he said as you made your way up the stairs. 

“But you know I'm high,” you observed.

“I'm the one that got you high, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah.”

As you sat down in your chair, all you could think about was getting as close to Aegon as possible. Thankfully, these were the newer, fancier theater chairs. You reclined your chair and moved the armrest out of the way so you could lean on Aegon.

“You and popcorn,” you said as you snuggled up to him. “The best combination ever.”

“Don't forget Shrek.”

“And Shrek.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head as the lights went down and the movie began.

While Shrek 2 was already one of the funniest moments of all time, watching it high made it even funnier.

“Prince Charming looks like Jason,” you whispered, eyes wide. “I bet his dick is small like Jason’s, too.”

Aegon choked on his water. He stole a look at you but all he saw was a girl high as fuck while watching Shrek 2. Gods, he wanted to kiss you then and there.

The movie continued with your constant one liners about how everything in Shrek related to something or someone in your life. Somehow you were Shrek, Fiona was Aegon (which he was happy about), Donkey was Helaena, and Puss in Boots was Jace. To you, it all made sense. To Aegon, it was simply blabbering that entertained him.

As the credits rolled on the screen, you lolled your head against Aegon’s shoulder once again. “I’m tired, Aeg.”

“You’re coming down from your high, kitten,” he assured you. “Time to get up and head home.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slunk down in your seat.

Aegon laughed. “They’re gonna kick us out anyway if you don’t get up. What if I helped you?”

You held out both arms. “Yes, please.”

Aegon moved to stand in front of you to pull you up. Instead of letting go, however, he tucked you into his side. Together, you made your way out of the movie theater.

“Can we go to your place?” you asked him as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s.”

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. “Why? Do you not like me?”

“That’s not it. You’re high and I’m going to take care of you.”

Your mood instantly switched. “I’d love for you to take care of me.” Heat began pooling in your belly while you placed a hand on his thigh.

Reluctantly, Aegon moved your hand off of him. “Not like that. I’m going to be responsible this one time and take you back to Helaena’s.”

“Come on, be irrisp, irrrrsp, irrisponble this one time.”

“If you want to be in my bed you’re going to have to be sober, kitten.”

You crossed your arms. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“I know, what a bore.” He turned into the driveway. “Time to go.” He walked over to your side to open the door and walk you to the front. “I loved tonight.”

“I love you too, Aegon,” you yawned.

Aegon stopped, stunned. “I think you mean you loved tonight.”

You hummed. “No, I love you.”

He nodded his head, mouth slightly agape, as he took you Helaena’s room. When he knocked on the door Helaena popped out.

Her eyes instantly went to you, leaning all your weight on Aegon. “What did you do?!”

Aegon shrugged. “She wanted to get high so I let her. I only got buzzed but she is definitely high.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s loud,” you moaned. “And bright.”

“Gods, get her in here.” Helaena motioned for Aegon to bring you into the room.

Immediately, you went for the bed and flopped down. Aegon was careful as he tucked you in. Helanea watched in awe of how sweet he was being to you. As soon as you drifted off to sleep, Helaena took Aegon into the hallway to talk.

“Have you been like this all night?” she questioned.

“You mean like the wonderful gentleman I am? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so kind to her?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, Hel. I like her.”

“No, when you like girls you just charm them and then fuck them. This is the second date you’ve gone on with her. Something is up.”

Aegon ran his hand down his face. “Let me do this, just once, let me be the good guy.”

Helaena looked at him warily. “Fine. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will personally destroy your life.”

[hannahssimblr]

Jen sleeps on my bedroom floor that night. Others crash in the living room, and Evie retreats to the guest room, as per my mother’s instructions. We don’t get the chance to say goodnight. 

Now, mom and I whisper at each other on the landing.

“Can I say goodbye to Ivy?”

“No, she’s fast asleep. You’ll only disturb her.”

“Okay, but I won’t see her. I think she’d like to see me, too.”

She purses her lips. “She’s too small, and she’s starting school again soon. You’ll throw her whole routine off, and you’ll have her upset with all this talk of leaving. I’ll pass on your goodbyes in the morning.”

But when she goes to bed, I sneak in regardless, peeking around Ivy’s door into her room, lit with the dim glow of her nightlight. There, I stand for a few moments as she sleeps soundly, her arms thrown over her pillow and her blonde hair around her head like a halo. She’s always slept like that, like a little maniac, arms and legs akimbo, determined to take up as much space as possible. Her chest rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. 

I step away and quietly shut the door. 

Back in my room, Jen is sleeping too. I’m careful to undress myself quietly, and climb under the covers. 

Setting my alarm is the last thing I do. 

Four. 

I awake to the vibration of my phone and the frantic song of the first birds of dawn. It is still dark, but that other-worldly, early morning haze that you only catch before the first burst of sunrise. 

Goosebumps erupt on my skin as I climb out of bed. I dress myself and fix my hair. 

Evie is still sleeping. 

In the bathroom, I clean my teeth, then leave the toothpaste out on the counter for her. She won’t know that we keep it in the cabinet, because anything that doesn’t suit the colour scheme of the bathroom is deemed offensive to the eyes. She will appreciate knowing where to find it when she gets up.

Afterwards, I risk a gentle knock on her door, to no response. After waiting a few moments for sounds of life, I receive nothing.

A slice of dim sunlight streams through the bathroom door and across the floorboards. 

I knock again. 

“Evie?”

Nothing. 

She must be sleeping in. We were all awake past midnight, at least, so she’ll be tired, but I’m certain she’ll get up soon. 

To my left, a door squeaks.

My sister, in her pyjamas, rubs sleep from her eyes. “Hello.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Because I heard you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I climb to my knees in front of her. “I was trying to wake someone else. She must be a heavier sleeper than you, yeah?”

“Are you going now?”

“In about an hour.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t know how to feel about this yet. It’s too early to make decisions. Her hair is sticking up in all directions, and her eyes are weighty with sleep. 

I smile. “You should go back to bed.”

“Were you going to say goodbye to me?”

I hesitate. “Of course I was.”

“Oh, okay.”

“C’mere.” I hold my arms out for a hug, and she falls into them, all warm from her bed, her cheek soft and hot on the side of my neck. 

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Will you ring me?”

“Every day, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, no. I won’t want that. You’re too annoying to talk to every day.”

“Alright, jeez. Once a week?”

She considers this. “Yeah, alright.”

“Glad we could come up with a deal.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Okay. Bye, Judie.”

“Bye, Ivy.” I squeeze her back and rock her side to side until she begs to be freed. I oblige and flick her lightly on the forehead. “Get back to bed, right?”

She nods, becoming still and quiet, and I start to worry she might cry. I can’t handle any more crying. 

“C’mon, don’t be silly. Go to bed. I’ll call you in a few hours.”

“Yeah.”

“Go on,” I push her back into her room, and watch her climb back under the covers, curled up on her side with just her face poking out, red nose and wet eyes. 

“Miss you,” she says. 

“Miss you too.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[viktoriaashleyyx]

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet.

We are headed to the House of Wind to confront RhySAnd and we see more of Sky's past as she taunts RhySAnd with it.

Tw: Discusses RhySAnds SA of Feyre UTM, magical violence.

((Thank you for being patient with me. Moving sucks, but things are starting to settle down now))

Ch 1

Ch 6 >> Ch 8

Chapter 7:

Today is the day we were heading to the House of Wind. I had sent a letter to Rhysand offering to meet him, that Tamlin will join me, it took him a few days to respond. Lucien was back on his feet feeling good as new.

After putting on one of my dresses, I sat at the vanity as Tamlin braided my hair, he was getting better at it. This has become almost a morning ritual for us. Brushing and braiding each other's hair as we discuss what's on our mind. Today we were both silent, we didn't want to do this, but at least we will be together.

When we were both ready we joined Lucien in the dining hall for breakfast.

“I almost want to go with you, just to see the look on Rhysands face as I walk in there unscathed.” Lucien admitted.

“I'd rather see the hate in Feyres eyes when I tell her you're dead by Rhysands hand,” I teased.

Lucien chuckled, Tamlin wasn't amused.

“You could go in disguise.” I joked, “have Tamlin turn you into a Raven and perch on my shoulder if you're so nosey.”

“Don't tempt me with a good time.” Lucien was going with it.

“No,” Tamlin huffed.

“Please, imagine how badass I would look walking in with a raven on my shoulder.” I whined. Still teasing, trying to lighten my nerves.

“I'm okay with that.” Lucien shrugged. Tamlin just groaned.

♡♡♡♡♡

“No, not a red raven, they're gonna recognize him. A normal raven.” I ordered.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this.” Tamlin sighed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

I portaled us to the door of the House of Wind, held Tamlins hand, and knocked. He was nervous, he had never been to Velaris before, but, thanks to my brother, the secrecy of this city has faltered.

“There's my baby sister! Can I finally get that hug?” Rhysand tried to embrace me and I put my hand on his chest pushing him back.

“I don't like to be touched.” I said dryly. “See how easy it was for me to show up on the OUTSIDE of your house and KNOCK?” I judged. “Show us to where we are having this meeting.”

“So bossy,” Rhysand teased, “you're not even the slightest bit happy to see me?”

He led us to a large sitting room, Tamlin and I sat on one couch, well, I perched on the edge, (how do the other illyrians sit here comfortably?) Rhysand and Feyre on the other, with who I assume to be, Feyre's sister and either Cassian or Azriel, I couldn't remember, the one with long hair, sitting in the corner, obviously eavesdropping. “Why would I be happy to see you? The last time you threw Lucien's dead body at me.”

Rhysands face dropped, he expected me to be more subtle. Feyre's face lined with shock as tears welled up in her eyes. “What? What is she talking about, Rhysand? You told me he left to stay at the Spring court.”

“Well? It was obviously a cry for attention, now you have it. What do you want from me?” I said coldly, cutting her off.

“I just want you home, where you belong.” Rhysand said, annoyed that he will surely have to weave another lie to Feyre later.

“I am where I belong. Is that all? You just want another prisoner to add to your collection?” I noticed Feyres sisters' ears perk up. She had no walls built up to protect her mind, odd for someone living in a house with daemati.

“You wouldn't be a prisoner.” Rhysand snapped.

I laughed, “no one generally chooses to stay in your company, brother.” Feyre still had pain on her face, lost in thought and trying to hold it together just long enough to finish the meeting. Hmm, it seems she might still have a heart after all.

“I would just like to show you around Velaris, catch up and show you what I've accomplished in the past years.” Rhysand admitted, trying, and failing, to stay collected.

“Velaris has always been perfect and protected, as done by our grandfather. If you want to impress me, show me how you have improved the lives of the people in the Hewn city and illyria.” Velaris citizens were safe, well cared for and ruled justly. Illyria has been used as my family's own personal warrior farm, and the Hewn City citizens trapped since long before I was born. “Tell me, do the majority of Illyrian citizens still live in tents?”

“We are doing our best in illyria. It's not as easy as you think.” Rhysand replied with a slight hint of attitude. He wasn't used to someone calling him out on his fallacies.

“Huh, I would believe that 500 years is plenty of time for the most powerful high lord.” I said mockingly. He loved to spit that phrase unto himself, a gross display of arrogance was all it ever was. “Tell me, how many mansions do you have now?”

“Six,” Feyre whispered, deep in thought, she seemed like she also had not heard anyone question him.

“Gross.” I replied bluntly. “Mother isn't going to be happy to hear about this.”

“Mom is alive?” Rhysand gasped, a light flickered in his eyes, Feyres jaw dropped slightly, the other Illyrian stared at me. “Where is she?”

“She lives amongst the warrior women of Brokilon, a forest warded well against anyone who wishes it or its inhabitants harm. I don't mind telling you this because there is absolutely no way for you to get there without my help. It's located in an entirely different realm. I needed divine intervention to return, something you would never be able to hack.” Every eye was on me, as they tried to make sense of it. “Our sister and I visit her regularly, she doesn't ask about you much.”

“Sister?” Rhysand seemed to finally be speechless. That last line stung.

“Yes, Yennefer. Half human, half Illyrian. She is an insanely powerful mage. She looks like us, violet eyes, black hair, but no wings. She had a slightly easier time in that realm considering they kill ‘Pointy ears’ on sight there. Think of what I would look like masquerading as a human, and that's her.”

“A mage?” Feyre questioned.

“Yes, in that realm magic is pulled from many sources, not just the earth, and they use that magic to.. mutate(?) humans into immortals. Thats where I learned the portals.”

“How did you and mother get there? How did you survive?” Rhysand pressed. I am not going to lie, I am enjoying the attention.

“When Tamlins father raised his blade to strike me,” I gripped Tamlins hand, I didn't blame him for breaking when the information of my location was tortured out of him. “I panicked. I held mother tight and reached out for any escape, and when I opened my eyes, we were in a forest I had never seen before. An Ash forest. I learned later that the power I grasped was chaos, not the power of the land.”

“Don't forget it was Tamlin who had you killed. He locked Feyre up and he hurt her.” Rhysand spit.

“He didn't ‘have me killed’ if I am currently sitting here, Rhysand. Mother and I are both alive, that is more than I can say for my predecessor, the last Lady of Spring” I retorted with a too sweet smile. While we hadn't exactly made it official, how could we with an empty court, this is the first time I have claimed that title. I wanted to turn to see Tamlins reaction, but I didn't want to lead on how significant this was to the others in the room. Tamlin showed his approval by softly moving his thumb over the back of my hand.

“And fair, yes, both Tamlin and Feyre made mistakes, that is not my place to comment on. Keep in mind, though, WE are the ones that wanted to stay away. You drug us here. Tamlin apologized, she didn't accept, and since then he has mostly kept to his own court. You and your brutes are the ones that keep going to him. Tell me, did you ever apologize to Feyre for what you did to her under the mountain?” I could see out of the corner of my eye, Feyres sister was shocked. She obviously didn't know what all the other High lords and courts witnessed. Rhysand and Feyres eyes both narrowed at me.

“If there is anything that is not your place to bring up-” Rhysand started.

“You did it so publicly,” I cut him off, “all the other High lords in Prythia became unwilling participants to your weird exhibitionst kink. You even admitted you did it to hurt Tamlin.”

“What did he do?” Feyres sister demanded through clenched teeth.

“Nothing Nesta. Mind your business.” Feyre snapped.

“He drugged her, and made her the nightly entertainment for all the courts under the mountain as she was stripped naked and forced to dance for him. If you knew she was your mate, why would you treat her that way?” Directed to Rhysand, then back to Feyre, “why cant your older sister know? Everyone else in Prythia does.”

“He did it to protect me.”

“Is that what he told you? You deserve better, babygirl.”

Rhysand was losing control. Both Lucien and Tamlin had the metal shields up that protected them from Rhysands daemati powers. So what does any self centered brat do when they are losing control? They change the subject, hoping to garner favor.

“I still remember you, bowed down kissing my boot and begging,” Rhysand taunted Tamlin.

I heard him take a deep breath, Lucien's talons gripped into my shoulder and I tried not to flinch at the pain. I retorted quickly, “what for? Oh that's right, it was to convince you to not sell Feyre out to Amarantha. Or should I say ‘Claire.’ Right? I wonder if your love for your mate is strong enough to entice you to do the same, dear brother.” Feyre began to choke.

Nesta was angry, confused, trying to process everything she just heard. Shock lined the Illyrian males face too, he hadn't heard either.

“Let her go.” Rhysand snarled at me, unmoving. His eyes void of any emotion.

“Ah, ah,” I sang, pointing a finger down to my boot. “You know what I want.”

“I will never bow to you,”

“Quickly, she's fading fast.”

Nesta cried out and bowed herself. The illyrian brute holding her back, Rhysand remained still, not breaking eye contact. I sent a message to her mind, Feyre will not die, I promise.

“Enough, Sky.” Tamlin growled at me.

I released my grip on her lungs and she took a heavy breath, fear, anger and confusion in her eyes.

“Let it be known, Feyre, that your ‘mate’ wouldn't even move a muscle to save you, but Tamlin questioned even me.” I said to her softly. “It seems you have a lot to think about.”

“Let's go,” Tamlin hissed at me. Uh oh, I am in trouble. I opened a portal home and we left.

♡♡♡♡♡

“We don't hurt people, Sky, that's not who we are.” Tamlin was angry. He shifted Lucien back to normal.

“I was in full control the entire time, I was not going to let her die,” my response was cold.

“I thought it was great,” Lucien muttered, eyes wide, but not meeting ours.

“If you are jealous of her–” Tamlin accused.

“JEALOUS? of her?” I cut him off and raised my voice, “I am angry with her. I do not give half a fuck who you had in your bed while I was gone, Tamlin, what I do care about is her destruction of my court. You, and her, were so incredibly toxic together it ended with entire cities burnt to ash, my people lost their homes because you two couldn't talk to each other. That is where my frustration starts and ends. My people, families, children, entire lives uprooted and destroyed. People shouldn't have to suffer because their leader is going through a break up. Childish nonsense caused me to return home to an abandoned court..” my voice softened, ever so slightly, “you are doing the work to rebuild and correct your mistakes while she is gallivanting around the night court like the sun shines out of her ass. She shows no remorse, no empathy for the people she destroyed. I cannot express how little I care that you enjoyed the taste of her.”

His stance softened and he whispered “I'm sorry, Sky.”

“Don't ever question where my loyalties lie, again.” I spit. Lucien reached a hand out to me, and I turned and stormed off to compose myself.

♡♡♡♡♡

I found myself outside my old gallery, a room I have dreamed of returning to for 300 years, I opened the door and creeped in.

It was obvious that others have used this, Tamlin admitted as much, admitted that Feyre would paint in here. I carefully studied the art laid out around the room, the paints and brushes strung out and left to dry. I felt a twinge in my chest, was it jealousy? No, I didn't seriously expect an entire room left empty for so long, did I?

And then I found hers. Much simpler art than the realism I painted in, lots of abstract splotches and lines, and crudely drawn pictures. It was beautiful in its own right, obviously done while she was a human. A human. Turned Fae, after the atrocities of Amarantha. Still a child by Fae years, forced into Prythia, forced into marriage after marriage. I know as well as anyone what a prison a crown truly is, her youth, her freedom, stolen from her by tradition, power, and lust. I had been treating her as the High Lady she chose to be, I wonder if that decision was made with her properly informed consent, or just pushed on her by my brother.

♡♡♡♡

An hour or so later, I headed out to find Tamlin. My head was clear now and we needed to talk.

He was in his study, hunched over his desk, head in his hands. It was dark now, the moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. “Tam?” I creaked the door open and entered slowly. He didn't respond.

I walked over to him and laid a gentle hand on his back. “My love,” I whispered, “can we talk? I'm sorry I blew up today.” He slid his chair out and pulled me onto his lap, holding me in his arms as I nestled my head in his neck.

“I love you, I am sorry I upset you.” Tamlin whispered. “I just didn't expect that today. I shouldn't have accused you. I don't, honestly, think that low of you, I was just angry.”

“I shouldn't have hurt her like that. I used her to shut my brother up the same way he used Lucien. Tensions were high today. I wanted to just stay away but my brother is so spoiled he can't take no for an answer. I'm sorry, I understand that seeing her in pain is not easy for you.” He just held me tighter, and I kissed his neck.

“I don't like leaving Spring.” Tamlin admitted quietly, “It just makes me feel sick every second I am outside my borders.”

“You're gonna have to pick one,” my voice soft and sweet, “either you swallow your worry, or your unease. I need to be able to leave if we are going to rebuild.” I lifted my hand to caress his cheek, slowly brushing his golden hair behind his ear. He laid a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“So, Lady of Spring, huh?” He smiled sweetly down at me, I sat up and turned slightly to look him in the face. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” I breathed leaning in closer, our lips almost touching, “unless you object?”

He pulled me in closer and kissed me deeply, “I would never object to that.”

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover

[meo-eiru]

Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!

This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.

I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3

He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.

I'm not horny. You are.

Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)

Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER

I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down

Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically

THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT

[petew21-blog]

Just a party, part 4

Chris Evans, inside of Robert Downey's body, was now tied up on the bed where that one person inside of Paul Rudd's body was really looking forward to fuck him

Chris:"Is this really necessary?"

Paul:"Oh yeah, Robert. I can't wait to fuck such a bad boy. Can't let you get away"

Chris:"Can you just tell me who you are so I can relax for a bit?"

Paul:"What will you give me if I tell you?"

Chris:"You got me tied up. Isn't that enough?"

Paul:"True, but you could offer me something else"

Chris:"You can fuck me..."

Paul:"Oh great. Amazing then. I can't believe I'm gonna be having sex with Robert Downey Jr."

Chris:"Ok, so now tell me who I am"

Paul:"I'm Jacob. Jacob Batalon"

Chris:"Right. Is that name suppose to ring a bell?"

Jacob:"Mr. Downey? I am surprised you don't know me. We were in the same movie"

Chris:"Dude, you know I'm not him."

Jacob:"So don't ruin it for me. Now. About that promise..."

Chris Hemsworth and Tom Hiddleston several hours ago

Tom:"Fuck yeaaaah. I'm so strong!"

Chris:"Oh don't get used to it. I'll be getting my body back"

Tom:"Sure, but I will be in the driving seat for several hours now"

Chris:"Don't you find it strange that Marvel paid for the tickets this year?"

Tom:"I must say it seems a bit odd, but they weren't against it years before. They just didn't encourage it"

Chris:"I just can't shake the weird feeling"

Tom:"Let's be vigilant and use our muscles for good" he said as he flexed in his old face

They each got a different room. Chris was meant to have the room with Sebastian Stan and Tom headed to a room along with Chris Evans's body.

Tom:"Two Chris's in a room"

Robert in Chris Evans's body:"They might kiss?"

Tom:"Or even worse" he said with a seductive tone pushing Robert on the bed. He immediately unzipped his jeans and started sucking on his beautiful hairy dick.

Tom was really good at it. Based on Robert's thrusting and hair pulling.

Tom:"You wanna bottom?"

Robert:"Ah fuck no. You bottom"

Tom:"Well that's gonna limit our options cause I don't want to bottom too."

Robert looked annoyed. "So are you gonna atleast suck me or what?"

Tom got close to him and whipped his hard dick in his face. Robert couldn't help it a deep throated his co-star. His dick hit the back of his throat and made him choke.

Tom pulled him close to embrace him into a hug and to make out passionately. And while they did, his hand slipped into Robert's boxers. His fingers were making his way into his hole. Robert felt it but wasn't fighting it. Chris's body responded well to that. Tom pushed his fingers inside. Robert let out a quiet moan into Tom's mouth.

Tom smiled and threw him on the bed:"So I guess we know who will bottom tonight"

Robert didn't want to admit it, but Chris's body was into it

Tom was making his way over the bed to him. He wasn't sure if his moves were seductive or not, because he didn't know how his body looked now, that he wasn't himself. But he made his way to Robert

They made out again. Taking off their clothes and making out some more

Tom took Robert's legs and pushed them up towards the ceiling. He then positioned his dick to his hole.

Robert let out another moan, but much louder this time. Smiling after letting him inside. "Hold on, wait a sec."

Tom let him wait, but he pulsates his dick playfully, while making tiny moves in his ass. Tom slowly made his way inside of Chris's body.

They were still facing each other while Robert's legs were up in the air and Tom was burried deep inside of Robert

Robert:"Fuck me, Chris!"

Tom:"Oh I'll fuck you all right, Chris"

And then he pounded. Very aggressively, not going easy on him. Robert moaned. Chris's voice made him even hornier. He was trying to balance out the position, but was good enough to jerk off his dick at the same time to finish with Tom.

And he succeeded. While Robert shoot the load all over Chris's abs, Tom filled his ass with more cum.

Robert:"So that's it. Nothing more? You won't tell me who you are?"

Tom:"You know we shouldn't, Robert?"

Robert;"Wait, how did you...?"

Tom:"It's the way you look at me and how you talk. It's obvious"

Robert:"And you're Tom. Am I right?"

Tom looked at him to assure him, that he was right. But he was now finally exploring Chris's body. Enjoying the muscles

While the two were still processing the sex between them, they were interrupted by the employees of the hotel. They stormed in, grabbing both of them. The two Chris's tried to fight, but there were 8 of the employees.

Tom:"What the hell is this?!? We were suppose to have privacy!"

Employee:"There has been a change of plans, sir." he said and after finishing that sentence injected him with sedatives.

Robert tried to scream but he was silenced and sedated as well.

15 minutes later

Chris's body woke up on the bed, now exploring his chest

Employee:"Did it work?"

Chris Hemsworth's body:"Oh Miguel. I can't wait for you to get your body. This is amazing"

Employee:"We're still waiting for Jake to wake up. But we got our bodies stashed in the cellar, before we get rid of them. We should go down to handle out instructions. They'll be happy to see you, boss."

Boss:"Oh and I can't wait to show off"

The boss was now towering over Henry and Ben, already captured by his employees.

Boss:"You're too early, gentlemen. You should have stayed in your rooms."

Henry:"So that you would steal our bodies like you did to Chris?"

Boss:"Steal? Oh no. This is not a theft Mr. Cavill. We have been paid to get your bodies. The demands you actors have these days are unbearable. The ammount off money they have to invest in you and also the strikes. I can't argue. Taking bodies from you is a smart move."

Ben:"Our families will know you are not us"

Boss:"That is a risk we're willing to take. Carl? Take them to the wine cellar. And tell their new hosts to get ready. We got bodies to take over"

Anonymous inbox request, slightly changed it to fit the direction I'm trying to go :D

Maybe a third part of "just a party". Where we find out who is inside Chris and Paul's bodies. Maybe focusing first in Chris Hemsworth' body. Could be Tom Hiddleston in Chris H's body and what they did swapped before the party.

Part 3:

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄. . .

NSFW!! | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

₊⊹⁀➴ : Late at night, Y/N is startled by a knock on her door. It's Chris, her dealer, who has been MIA for weeks. Looking worn and anxious, he explains he’s been laying low and had to take care of business.

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋

˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧, scrolling mindlessly through social media, a knock on the door ripped me from my digital reverie. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked around, startled. Who could be knocking in the dead of night? Rising from my seat with hesitation, I padded toward the front entrance, curiosity overtaking my unease.

The moment I cracked open the door, my eyes widened with a touch of disbelief. Standing before me was Chris, and it was instantly clear that something was seriously amiss. He appeared more drained than I’d ever seen him. Wrapped in a bulky hoodie that shielded his face and adorned in a sinister all-black ensemble, he bore an air of mystery mixed with a hint of danger.

“Chris?” I stammered, my voice shaking with a mix of surprise and a tinge of unease. His arrival was unexpected, especially at this late hour.

Chris shifted, his hands slipping from his pockets as he replied, his voice betraying a weariness that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of desperation.

Without another word, I nodded, my curiosity now tinged with a growing sense of unease. I stepped aside, reluctantly allowing him entrance into my home. The door swung shut behind him, and I turned to get my first good look at Chris in his strange getup.

Chris perched on a stool by the kitchen island, leaning heavily against the countertop. The dim lighting cast an eerie glow over him, highlighting the shadows beneath his eyes and the gaunt lines of his face. I couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of concern and confusion as I observed him in the subdued kitchen.

“Chris,” I began, my voice laced with concern. “Where have you been? You've been MIA for weeks, and now you show up at my door like this?” I gestured towards his shadowy, all-black appearance and the haggard expression etched into his features.

Slowly, Chris lowered his hoodie, revealing a face that was a mix of exhaustion and determination. His hair, tousled from the confinement of his hood, added to his worn-out appearance. I couldn't help but notice the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to the carefree demeanor he once exhibited.

Chris ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, attempting to tame the unruly locks. “I've been out of town,” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and purpose. “Had some business to take care of. It was... complicated.” His eyes met mine, a hint of vulnerability glimmering beneath his fatigued facade.

In that moment, our eyes locked across the kitchen island, and I couldn't help but notice how, despite his obviously haggard appearance, he somehow looked surprisingly attractive in his all-black ensemble. The messiness of his hair only added to the enigma that surrounded him.

Recovering from the momentary distraction of his appearance, I found myself annoyed by his unexpected arrival. “Couldn't have texted me that?” I interjected, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “You just disappeared without a word, and now you're back, looking like you've been through the wringer. What the hell, Chris?”

Chris let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooped in defeat. “I couldn't, Y/N,” he replied, his voice laced with sincere apology. “Things got complicated, and it was safer for both of us if I went off the grid for a while.” He paused, his gaze searching mine as he tried to communicate the depth of his situation. “I don't mean to worry you, but it was necessary, believe me.”

The way he spoke my name, soft yet laced with sincerity, sent an electric shiver down my spine. It was a sound I yearned to hear, a connection that I had been missing. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel a surge of longing, wishing for him to call out to me once more.

Chris mustered a small, weary smile, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “I'm here now, though,” he said, his voice tinged with a touch of humor. He continued, “Thought I'd come by and see my favorite costumer.” I shook my head, a faint chuckle escaping my lips. I couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on me, even in his current state. I glanced down at the marble island countertop, my fingers tracing its cool surface.

The silence stretched for a moment, then Chris broke the tension with another soft confession. “I've missed you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice gravelly and laced with genuine emotion. The sincerity in his words left me momentarily speechless, caught between a mixture of surprise and a warmth blossoming in my chest. I looked up, meeting his gaze, unsure of what to say but knowing that my feelings for him mirrored his own.

The words left my lips before I could stop them, “I thought we weren't doing this anymore,” I said with a hint of sadness. It was a stark reminder of the boundaries we had established, of the lines we had drawn to keep our relationship purely professional. The weight of our unspoken connection hung in the air, undeniable but still, unspoken.

Chris's voice softened, and he replied, “So now I can't say that I miss you?” There was a hint of playful defiance in his tone, as if he was challenging me to uphold the boundaries we had set. However, beneath the surface, I could sense the underlying desire to push those boundaries, yearning for something more.

I met his gaze, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and longing. “Well, you know where that always leads us, don't you?” The implications were clear, a reminder of the passionate encounters that had drawn us together in the past.

Chris's tone took on a seductive edge as he countered, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “What if I do? And what if I don't?” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. “What if I'm okay with things escalating once more?”

I shook my head, my voice tinged with surprise. “I would think you're insane,” I replied, a soft laugh escaping my lips. Chris rose from the stool, his movements deliberate as he made his way around the kitchen island.

With a captivating smile, he pressed against it, leaning closer to me. “You think so?” he echoed, his voice laced with a playful challenge. The proximity between us fueled the magnetic pull we felt, igniting a spark beneath my skin as I looked into his eyes, trying to read his intentions.

The tension continued to build as Chris leaned against the kitchen island, his presence both alluring and intoxicating. He continued with a low, seductive tone, “I think it might be worth re-exploring… wouldn't you say?” The suggestion hung in the air, daring me to reconsider our boundaries and delve once more into the passionate encounters we had shared.

I met his gaze, my voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desire. “You're insane if you think you can just up and leave without any explanation, and then expect me to be okay,” I replied, my voice wavering between anger and a longing for his touch. The tumultuous emotions swirling inside me mirrored the conflicted feelings that had been at the forefront of our tumultuous history.

Chris reached out, his fingers gently wrapping around my arm and pulling me in front of him. His back now faced the kitchen island, while I stood facing him, our bodies mere inches apart. He looked into my eyes, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “And I told you, I'm sorry Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerability that was both reassuring and alluring. “I won't do that again.”

Chris's grip on my arm sent a jolt of electricity through my body, as if every fiber of my being yearned for his touch. His apology, laced with sincerity, melted my defenses, and I found myself drawn deeper into his magnetic pull. I knew there were risks associated with rekindling what we had, but in that moment, the longing in his eyes resonated with my own desires.

I swallowed, my voice filled with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. “I wish I could believe you, Chris,” I replied, my eyes never leaving his, searching for any hint of deception. “But how can I trust you not to leave again?” The lingering fear of abandonment lingered in my heart.

Chris's arms wrapped possessively around my waist, his head slowly descending toward my neck. The warmth of his body against mine stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me. As his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, a jolt of electricity surged through me, leaving me weak in the knees.

Chris's lips moved against my skin, whispering, “I promise you I won't, not when I have you back in my arms again, ma.” His words, filled with a mix of desperation and sincere affection, resonated deep within me. The use of the familiar term, ‘ma’ only added to the intensity of the moment, reigniting the flame that had been smoldering between us.

Chris's arms tightened possessively around my waist as he continued to shower my neck with gentle kisses. Each touch sent a shiver down my spine, intensifying the burning desire within me. “I've missed your smell, your taste,” he murmured, his voice filled with raw emotions.

Chris pulled away, his eyes holding a yearning look as he met mine.My hand traced a path from his chest to his neck, before weaving through his hair, a gentle caress to soothe his weariness. “You poor thing,” I murmured, my voice soft and filled with genuine concern. “Business got you so exhausted; I can see it in your eyes.”

My hand moved to his face, gently cupping his cheek. Chris leaned into my palm, his eyes closing for a brief moment as if savoring the warmth of my touch. “You've always been able to see right through me, ma,” he whispered, his voice filled with both vulnerability and affection.

The way he said ‘ma’ sent a shiver down my spine. It was a term of endearment that only he used, one that held a special place in our history together. The air between us grew charged with longing, and I could feel the walls that I had built up slowly crumbling.

I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart, a steady reminder of his presence. Chris continued speaking, his voice laced with a mix of earnestness and vulnerability. “I messed up, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes holding a mix of remorse and determination. “I've spent every day since then thinking about us, regretting my actions, and wishing I could be with you again.”

Chris's voice grew softer, a mix of vulnerability and yearning lacing his words. “I've been missing this, missing us, more than you can imagine,” he admitted. A wave of emotions washed over me as I caught a glimpse of the turmoil he had been going through. His vulnerability, so rare and precious, was like a tender offering, inviting me to bridge the gap between us.

Chris had never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, always maintaining a nonchalant air. But in this moment, as he poured out his feelings to me, I saw a side of him that I'd never experienced before. Softness and vulnerability glimmered in his eyes, as if he was finally revealing his true self. It was a rare and beautiful sight, one that tugged at my heartstrings and made me want to soothe his pain.

My voice, a soft whisper, broke the stillness in the room, “Kiss me,” I breathed, my eyes locked with Chris's in anticipation. He slowly leaned in, his lips grazing mine in a tantalizing dance before finally capturing them in a gentle and tender exchange.

Our kiss was an unspoken apology, a meeting of souls craving connection. Electric currents coursed through my body as we melded together in that moment, the world around us fading away, leaving only us and our shared desire.

Chris's arms tightened around me as we lost ourselves in the kiss, their embrace both possessive and comforting. Our bodies pressed together, igniting a fire within me that matched the passion in Chris's eyes. It was a moment of raw, unspoken emotions, a chance to let our guard down and simply be. There were no words needed; our entwined bodies and the yearning in our kiss said it all.

My hand slipped under his hoodie and t-shirt, desperate to feel his skin. My fingers traced the contours of his back, as if relearning the familiar landscape. It was as though we were rediscovering each other all over again, and in that moment, nothing else mattered except the sensation of being in each other's arms once more.

Our bodies connected in ways that words couldn't fully describe. The tension melted away, replaced by a renewed connection. Each brush of our skin was a wordless confession, a desperate plea for more. The kiss that began as a whisper grew into an urgent, hungry exchange. Time stood still as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating dance of desire that had kept us apart for far too long.

Our bodies moved in sync, a melody of longing that played out with each touch and breathless gasp. It was as if the time apart had only intensified our connection, our desire. I could feel the heat radiating from his body under my fingers, a reminder of the intensity of our union. The taste of his lips, the softness of his skin, it was all a testament to the depth of our longing for each other's touch.

My fingers trembled with a mix of anticipation and desire as I reached for the hem of Chris's black hoodie, eager to shed the barrier between us. Our lips parted briefly, a breathless moment in the whirlwind of our connection, as I tugged at the fabric, ready to strip him of any remnants of the past weeks apart.

Without a word, Chris understood my silent plea. He reached back, grasping the hem of his hoodie, and in one fluid motion, helped me remove it. The garment landed on the couch, a discarded symbol of the distance that had separated us. With renewed hunger, he dipped his head once more, claiming my lips in a passionate dance.

As my hands ventured towards his belt, reaching for what lay beneath it, Chris placed his hand on mine, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “Wait, Not yet.” A shiver ran down my spine as he picked me up with ease and planted me on the cool surface of the kitchen island, the heat between us threatening to consume us.

With a gentle urgency, Chris moved between my thighs, his body pressing close, the closeness igniting an ache within me. His fingers traced the curves of my body, each touch like a jolt of electricity, as he kissed me with a fervent hunger that mirrored my own.

Chris's eyes darkened with desire as he reached for the hem of my shirt, a silent request that I eagerly accepted. With a swift motion, he peeled the fabric from my skin, discarding it on the floor. The exposure of my bare skin only intensified the flames that flickered between us, pushing us closer to the edge.

With a heady desperation, Chris trailed his lips down my neck, leaving behind a trail of tender kisses on my collarbone. Each touch sent a shiver through my body, my skin tingling with anticipation. As he explored further, my hand instinctively reached for his hair, my fingers weaving through his locks, urging him ever closer.

The intoxicating combination of his kisses and the tender pressure of his teeth against my skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. My breath hitched as he ventured even lower, reaching the sensitive flesh of my chest, each kiss punctuated by a soft moan of approval from my lips.

I tightened my grip around his head, a silent plea for him not to stop. The intensity of our connection escalated with each passing moment, our bodies a fiery union in which we lost ourselves.

With a surge of desire, Chris's hands explored my back, seeking the clasp of my bra, eager to remove the last barrier between us. My breath hitched as I felt the fabric loosen, leaving me exposed in his arms. Our intimacy deepened, the layers of restraint peeled away, as we surrendered fully to the passion that bound us.

Chris's hands, greedy and gentle, reached up to cup my breasts. His thumbs brushed against the peaks, sending shivers through me. I arched my back, pushing myself more firmly into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Chris leaned down, his warm breath against my skin before his mouth closed around one nipple. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over me. He suckled gently, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving me to the brink of madness.

Lost in the haze of desire, I couldn't help but tug his hair harder, desperate for him to keep sucking. The sensation was intoxicating, and I felt myself growing wetter by the second. Finally, Chris released my nipple with a pop, leaving it swollen and sensitive.

As I released his hair, he looked up at me, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You're so perfect.” Then, he shifted his attention to my other breast, lavishing it with the same exquisite torture.

I was trembling, my body on fire, as Chris continued to worship my breasts. His hands roamed over my sides, his fingers digging into my skin as he held me in place. I felt his hot breath against my sensitive nipple.

Chris released my breast, his lips trailing kisses down my torso as his hands reached for the hem of my sweatpants. “Lift,” he murmured. I obeyed, lifting my hips off the cold, hard marble of the kitchen island.

He tugged the sweats down, along with my underwear, leaving me bare before him. The cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver. Chris's gaze roamed over me appreciatively, taking in every inch of my body. “Spread your legs, baby,” he commanded softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitantly spread my thighs, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. He stepped closer, his hands gripping my knees and pushing my legs wider apart. “More,”

I complied, spreading my legs until I felt the cool air against my most intimate place. Chris's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me, completely open and ready for him. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Without another word, Chris dropped to his knees, his face inches from my dripping pussy. He looked up at me, his eyes locked on mine, before burying his face between my thighs. His tongue slid through my folds, licking up my juices and delving inside my pussy, fucking me with his tongue.

I gripped the edge of the countertop, my knuckles turning white as I braced myself against the intense sensation. Chris's hands gripped my thighs, holding them wide apart as he devoured me. His tongue was magic, dancing over my swollen nub and plunging back inside, over and over again.

“Chris...” I moaned, my head thrown back, my hips bucking against his face. “Please, more... Oh, God...” My words tumbled out, incoherent and desperate, as he continued to feast on me. “Right there... Please, don't stop...”

His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside me as his tongue focused on my throbbing bud. The double stimulation was almost too much to bear. “I'm... I'm going to... Chris, I can't...” I panted, torn between the need to push him away and pull him closer.

He ignored my torn words, his fingers pumping in and out of me, his mouth sucking and licking. My legs began to shake, my whole body tensing as the waves of pleasure crested. “Chris!” I screamed, burying my fingers in his hair as I shattered against his mouth.

He gentled his touch, slowly licking and kissing my over-sensitive flesh as I came back down. I sagged against the counter, boneless and spent. Chris rose, his face glistening with my essence, and grinned wickedly at me. “You taste like heaven,” he said.

Chris swept me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom. The layout of my apartment was still etched in his memory, despite the weeks apart.

He set me down gently on my bed, my back sinking into the plush comforter. His hands reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his tone chest and abs.

I sat up, reaching for his belt buckle. My fingers fumbled with the strap, desperate to get it undone. Chris chuckled, his hands covering mine to guide me through the process. He was wearing his balenciaga belt, the one i liked the most on him.

With the belt unbuckled, I unbuttoned his black jeans, sliding the zipper down to reveal the waistband of his boxers. I looked up at him, biting my lip, and he nodded, telling me to continue.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, slowly pulling them down over his hips. His hard length sprang free, bobbing against his stomach. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, pumping slowly as I leaned forward to kiss the tip.

Chris's hands tangled in my hair as I took him into my mouth, his hips jerking forward instinctively. I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting the precum leaking from the slit, before taking him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of my throat.

Chris's grip on my hair tightened, his breathing growing faster as I continued to work my mouth on him. He let me set the pace, his hips bucking forward occasionally as the sensation became too much. His abs tensed and relaxed with each breath, his whole body focused on the pleasure I was giving him.

“Fuck, ma...” he moaned, his voice ragged and unsteady. “Your mouth feels so good...” His hips moved in time with my bobbing head, his length sliding in and out of my mouth.

I hummed around him, smiling as he groaned, his fingers tightening in my hair. I could feel his body tensing, his release drawing near. “Y/N...” he panted, his warning coming out as a hoarse whisper. “I’m... I'm gonna... ma...”

I pulled back, my hand continuing to pump him as his release came. His head fell back, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he found his release. His hot, salty essence spilled over my hand and onto my chest.

I brought my hand to my mouth, licking off his release before cleaning up the mess on my chest. Chris watched me with heavy-lidded eyes before reaching down to tilt my chin up. “I've missed your lips so much,” he said, his thumb wiping away any remnant from my mouth.

He pulled me up into a kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to taste himself on my lips. I melted into the kiss, my arms wrapping around his neck as I returned it with equal fervor.

Chris slowly lowered us both onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he settled on top of me, our lips still locked. He hovered over me, his hands gripping my wrists and pinning them above my head.

Chris began to kiss and nibble his way down my neck, marking me with his love bites. He was gentle but firm, his teeth sinking into my skin as he left his claiming marks. I could feel the heat building between my legs as he continued to worship my body. “Chris…”

“Tell me what you want, ma,” he whispered against my neck, his voice low and sultry. His hands tightened around my wrists, his body heavy on mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, a reminder of what was yet to come. “Please...”

“Please what, ma?” he prompted, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. “Tell me what you need.” His voice was a dark temptation, coaxing the words from my lips. “Please... I need you” I whispered, my cheeks flushing with heat.

Chris slowly released his hold on my wrists, his hands trailing down my arms, my sides, my hips, before finally settling on my thighs. He gently spread my legs, his touch feather-light as he began to explore my body. “Where do you need me, ma?”

“Chris... please... I need you inside me. Now.” I demanded, my voice breathy with desire. He growled in approval, his hands gripping my hips as he aligned himself with my entrance. “Look at me, baby,” he ordered, his voice low.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze as he entered me in one smooth thrust. I gasped at the sensation, my back arching off the bed as he filled me completely. “Fuck,” he cursed, his hands gripping my hips tightly. “So fucking tight, ma.” He groaned, lowering his head and burying his face in the crook of my neck as he began to move within me. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”

I complied, wrapping my legs around his waist as he slowly increased his pace. The new angle allowed him to bury himself deeper inside me, the sensation bordering on pain. I scored my nails down his back, pulling him closer as he began to thrust harder, his breath coming in short pants against my neck.

Chris's grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pounded into me. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, accompanied by our heavy breathing. “You feel so good, ma... I could fuck you forever,” he growled, his voice strained with effort.

“Fuck, Chris. Please... harder,” I whimpered, my body tensing as he hit that sweet spot inside me. He let out a guttural groan, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into me with enough force to shake the bed.

“God, I missed you so much,” Chris panted, his voice laced with emotion. His movements became more urgent, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself to the hilt inside me. “The way you wrap around me... the little sounds you make...”

“It's driving me crazy, ma. I can't hold back much longer...” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head and sealed his mouth to mine, swallowing my cries as he continued to thrust into me with unbridled passion.

Chris's usually rough and demanding demeanor was replaced with a tender, gentle touch. He held me close, his arms wrapping around me like a vice as he made love to me instead of fucking me. His careful, deliberate movements stirred something deep within me, and I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

I missed this, I missed him. I missed the feel of his arms around me, the way his calloused hands caressed my body. The weeks of silence had been agonizing, each day stretching into an eternity as I yearned for his touch.

“Chris... oh god, Fuck,” I moaned, my fingers clutching at his back as he continued to slowly thrust in and out of me. The gentle pace was torture, each movement drawing out the sensation and ratcheting up the tension in my core.

“I'm so close, Chris... please...” I begged, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of release. Chris's breath grew ragged, his hips moving faster as he chased his own orgasm. “Stay with me, baby,” he grunted, his fingers tightening around my waist.

Chris sealed his mouth to mine, his kiss passionate and demanding. Our tongues danced together as our movements grew more urgent, our bodies climbing towards the peak of passion. I could feel his muscles tensing, his breath hitching, and I knew we were both close.

We parted our lips, panting against each other's faces as we neared the breaking point. Chris hovered over me, his arms braced on either side of my head, his eyes locked onto mine. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his neck, sucking and kissing his skin as he finally let go.

Chris let out a low, guttural moan, his body stiffening as he found his release. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, hot pants as he spilled into me. “Fuck! oh god, ma...” His voice was raw with emotion.

I felt my own orgasm wash over me, my vision blurring as I cried out in ecstasy. My inner walls clenched around Chris, milking his cock for every drop of his release. We stayed like that for a long moment, our foreheads pressed together, our hearts pounding in unison

Chris opened his eyes, his dark irises meeting my gaze as we both caught our breath. He brushed his lips against mine in a gentle kiss.

“You were amazing, like always,” Chris murmured, his voice soft and reverent. He nuzzled against my neck, his arms wrapping around me possessively.

Chris slowly pulled out of me, his face flushing slightly as the evidence of our passion spilled onto the sheets. He reached for the blanket folded at the corner of the bed and pulled it over us, tucking me against his side.

I looked up at Chris, my eyes meeting his as he looked down at me. “I'm so glad you're back,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. “Promise me you'll stay, Chris.” His expression softened, his hand pausing on my back. “I promise”

Chris leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. He broke away, his hand coming up to cup my cheek tenderly. “I'm not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I'm exactly where I want to be.”

[fountainpenguin]

I'm sorry if I'm annoying you. But I can't get over you City Lights AU Dale. The man looks like he has all the issues and is hanging on by the thinnest thread. One more problem and he will just fully collapse.

😂 I'm eating your asks like sandwich.

^ He is overworking himself in a desperate attempt to make peace with the fact that he never got to hear his late father say "You did everything I ever asked without complaint; you are such a good son and you've made me so proud."

Push him near a goalpost and he'll panic and kick it across the room. We don't know how to process feelings of achievement and pride in this family. Those are Bad Emotions that will get the company steamrolled by competitors... You could lose everything... Is that how you want to be remembered?

I've been waffling on whether to share this WIP or withhold it for in-the-moment drama, but just for you... a treat.

His back ached from hunching; his feet stung from dirt. Vicky didn’t leave me down there; she always came back. “Do you know what that means?” Without waiting for an answer, Dale grabbed Timmy’s shoulder with one hand and pumped his fist with the other. “I’m still her bestie! She didn’t replace me!” “She locked you in a cellar for 7 years,” Timmy started, but Dale cut him off by slamming the bathroom door. And he laughed at nothing, clutching fingers in his hair, because… He really had to talk to her. They could clear this whole mess up! Now, let’s get one thing laid out crystal-flat. Dale knew Vicky had locked him up down in Dimmsdale’s tunnels, sure. He wasn’t stupid. But she wouldn’t have done that at all if he hadn’t threatened to tell untrustworthy adults about The Accident that kicked the lemonade business off in the first place, and it wasn’t her fault he’d been a disloyal friend. He really put her in a bad position there- That can’t be denied. Dale dragged his hands down his face (and dragged his butt down the door) until he thumped on freeze-dried tile. His toes gripped the bathmat. He wrapped his arms around his knees. I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I'll be better. I'm ready to listen now.

Prompt #96 - "You Deserve It"

My terrible headcanon is that if it took 7 years for Dale to work up the courage to open a trapdoor and crawl out, and he didn't file charges severe enough to stop Vicky from babysitting Timmy, he is not the kind of person who would stop hanging out with her SDLFKJ.

Also, here's a sketch I made for this post. I opted not to post it there, but I think it captures My Vision really well:

Toxic ex-BFFs with a very weird dynamic post-lemon pit torture, gossip buddies, and a secret 3rd thing... silly little guys.

He hates the fighting, but he craves the structure... Being nice to Vicky is the safe option... It's such big "Get real, Dale- No one will ever want to deal with you and your problems; I'm the only one who can put up with your baggage" vibes...

He can tolerate the bruises; he can make little exceptions; friends forgive each other and not forgiving her would mean throwing away the 3.5 years they had before the Real Trouble Began... Do u understand...

I've been brainstorming another WIP of Dale fantasizing about terrible things he wants to do to Vicky, but I'm not sure I'll actually write that one because it's pretty dark SLKDFJ

Listen, I just want Dale to slam Vicky against a wall and it turns out Mark was shapeshifted as her handbag and OH, HE PROTEC-

It's extremely important to me that Dale is nice and sympathetic enough that Dev believes if he can just pry his dad away from business, they can play and have fun. Dale being "sweet and engaging and loving" around his wife and during the holidays has done a NUMBER on Dev's psyche.

[junkie-virus]

everytime i feel insecure abt my forehead (widows peak gang) i just think of my numerous (one) beloved white men w large foreheads & i feel a bit better

[steakout-05]

i made some cute little wip chibi sprites of some vocaloid, utauloid and fanloid characters :)

the characters from left to right, top to bottom are: hatsune miku rin and len kagamine teto kasane momone momo zatsune miku akita neru shiteyanyo nakao/larval rin

[sysig]

For a request, would you please draw something with Shmee and Scriabin interacting? I always find the idea of their constant bickering and 'You're not my dad, don't tell me what to do' 'well apparently SOMEONE needs to' relationship funny and potentially cute, and i wish we got to see more of it. And it being a reminder that Scriabin can do stuff that humans can't typically (like talk to the other Voices) is always a fun bonus.

Day 22 - Hey!

[amplexadversary]

Ahh, tv shows where I can't tell apart the male leads, my beloathed.

Seriously either we need to go back to lighting our sets more, or long hair on men needs to come back into vogue, because I can't keep living like this.

I can't keep taking two seconds to try to determine who is who every shot because I miss what's going on in the scene!

Controversial opinion, but you need to follow the silhouette rule in live-action projects too, at least in regard to characters in the same show or movie! If you absolutely *can't* hire actors with different heights, hair, or builds, you need to work something out with the costuming department to get a distinct shape!